


Hope on the Breeze

by ihavealotofwords



Category: X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, I Blame Tumblr, M/M, The One Where Charles Is A Tree And Erik Is The Wind, Tree!Charles, Wind!Erik, experimental thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-20 02:28:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1493326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ihavealotofwords/pseuds/ihavealotofwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Erik.”</p>
<p>It was smoothly exhaled, curling up into the air quietly. The lips that released the sound were parted, gasping for breath above eyes that watered with pain. But the word, the name, was spoken with heat and longing and a tang of sad love. In all the cities and rooms and lives the breeze had flowed through, it had never heard a name spoken in such a tone. The response was just as laden with emotions.</p>
<p>“Charles.” </p>
<p>The breeze flowed closer, trying to take in everything. The second speaker cradled the first in his arms tightly, like he wanted to surround him completely. The first was shaking in pain, the rusty smell of blood tainting the air around him, but the two were wrapped in heat and love and the breeze wanted that.</p>
<p>Erik. The breeze’s tendrils curled happily. That was the name, good and solid and powerful, that it had been searching for. As it was swept away by a larger gust, it began to form its plan.</p>
<p>I’m Erik, he thought. Now I just need my Charles.</p>
<p>-----</p>
<p>Or the one where Charles is a tree and Erik is the wind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hope on the Breeze

**Author's Note:**

> Strange little thing I wrote a while back after I saw a post on tumblr about Charles being a tree and Erik being the wind. I can't remember who posted it, but credit for the idea goes to them.
> 
> Can also be found [here](http://fanofallthingsadorkable.tumblr.com/post/46556840529/hope-on-the-breeze) .

It was truly an impressive storm, all sharp gusts and freezing rain and a terrifyingly large amount of noise. It whirled over the open ocean, spurred on by the warm waters it encountered. It cut a wide stripe towards land, promising destruction and chaos and chilling the hearts of those in its path.

Hurricane Edie was a name spoken in hushed whispers in America. Some claimed it wouldn’t, couldn’t reach the shore before it fizzled into sparse nothingness, while others warned of the inevitable devastation that would engulf the coast. In the end, neither claim was right, as Edie curved, headed towards the Mexican coast instead, but those few moments full of dark worry and sickening adrenaline carved the name into the minds of the citizens who escaped from experiencing it themselves by such a small margin they could still feel the cold sweat on their brows.

Names were quite fascinating to a certain breeze born from the circling, seething mass. Names represented a sense of raw power and glowing recognition not often attributed to a simple breeze, a fact which most breezes were quite content with. This specific breeze, however, realized something far beyond the usual breeze-thoughts of swirling and flowing and _airiness_. This breeze pulled apart from its brothers and sisters and, while watching Edie crawl away, realized that it was all that would be left to represent Edie- for all intents and purposes the mother who had given birth to it. The name Edie would be spoke of fearfully, borderline reverently, for a span of time before something new would capture the thoughts of the humans, and Edie would be forgotten.

The breeze contemplated this as Edie drifted further and further away. Edie would eventually dissolve into a multitude of small breezes, and that would be all that was left. It was such a heavy thought, the breeze almost couldn’t bear it and almost crashed into the sea. However, it fought to work through it. Finally, it decided that it would do something, anything. High aspirations for a breeze, but if it could do that _one important thing_ , it was sure it could live free of the burden that brought it down.

\-----

Along its voyage across rolling waves and rolling hills and rolling masses of humans all packed together in the cities, the breeze decided the first thing it needed was a name. A good, solid name. Many names were spoken into the breezes tendrils, but none seemed to _stick_.  Jane. **Harry**. _Lance_. ~~Rachel~~. **Matt**. Each name different, spoken with different tones and inflictions and emotions. None were right.

The breeze drifted over open water again, leaving the cities behind. The waters were dotted with small, abandoned expanses of land. An open beach had interesting grit, with a tangy metallic taste to it. The breeze lingered, taking in the interesting new texture. It was there that the word was caught by a tendril.

_“Erik.”_

It was smoothly exhaled, curling up into the air quietly. The lips that released the sound were parted, gasping for breath above eyes that watered with pain. But the word, the name, was spoken with heat and longing and a tang of sad love. In all the cities and rooms and lives the breeze had flowed through, it had never heard a name spoken in such a tone. The response was just as laden with emotions.

_“Charles.”_

The breeze flowed closer, trying to take in everything. The second speaker cradled the first in his arms tightly, like he wanted to surround him completely. The first was shaking in pain, the rusty smell of blood tainting the air around him, but the two were wrapped in heat and love and the breeze wanted that.

_Erik_. The breeze’s tendrils curled happily. That was the name, good and solid and powerful, that it had been searching for. As it was swept away by a larger gust, it began to form its plan.

_I’m Erik_ , he thought. _Now I just need my Charles_.

\-----

The gust dropped Erik off in a large, bustling city. It was loud and crowded, and Erik didn’t think he’d find his Charles there. He flowed towards the smell of trees and earth, seeking more open spaces. He eventually came upon an old house. It was large and empty, but it gave the feeling that someone had been there recently. Erik liked it. It was tall, with many nooks and crannies for him to run through, whistling loudly.

_If only my Charles was here_ , he thought. But at the moment, it was far too lonely, so Erik made his way across the lawn, climbing over a hill. It was a warm day, and as a breeze Erik was sleepy and sluggish with the warmth. Therefore, it took him a moment to notice him.

The tree was a fully grown oak, with broad branches and many healthy, green leaves. Its fingers spread wide, casting a large area of shade. Erik approached him slowly, twisting close to run along his bark. It was rough and textured, but in a nice way. Erik flowed upwards to run through the tree’s leaves. They rustled in a pleasing way, almost sounding like an open laugh. It was then that the tree, who had been politely silent, addressed Erik.

_Hello. Might I ask what you are doing?_

Erik flowed down, curling around the tree’s branches. _I’m searching for my Charles._

_What’s a Charles?_

Erik stirred up a little puff of dirt near the tree’s base as he thought. _I think Charles is perfect_ , he settled on saying. _I think it’s the best thing in the world._

The tree was silent for a moment, leaves turning and reaching towards the sun. Finally, _It sounds like a wonderful thing._

Erik swelled a little with pride. _I think it is._

_Where is your Charles?_

Erik wilted a little. _I haven’t found him yet._

The leaves above him seemed to droop. _I’m sorry._

_Will you be my Charles?_

Erik waited a while, not pushing. The tree rustled slightly.

_I’m not perfect._

Erik thought about that. _You look fine to me._

It was evening before the tree answered.

_Alright. I’ll be your Charles._

\-----

Erik was happy with Charles. Charles was open and warm and friendly, and Erik soaked it in. He could feel himself grow lighter as time went on. Charles enjoyed having company. He had been alone at the bottom of the hill for years.

_Even when humans lived in the house, they never came all the way out here_ , Charles explained. Erik brushed up against his bark.

_You’re not alone anymore. I’m here_ , Erik assured him. Charles’ leaves rustled, pleased.

Erik would wander away sometimes, always returning with something interesting for Charles to look at, or some delicious smell he had picked up, or even a little bit of rain when Charles needed it in the summer. Humans eventually moved back into the house over the hill, and Erik was able to bring Charles even more. He carried snippets of conversations and different scents to Charles regularly.

The humans usually didn’t travel all the way over the hill, preferring to stay next to the large house. Sometimes, though, one of the younger children would wander out there and play in the shade of Charles’ leaves until they were called home by one of the older humans.

It was after one of them, a girl, had taken refuge in Charles’ branches as she cried, only to be found later by an older human and comforted until she felt better, that Charles brought up something new.

_I could have sprouts._

Erik stilled for a moment before brushing against Charles softly. _What do you mean?_

_My acorns_ , Charles rustled his branches to demonstrate the small bundles. _Mostly they are food for the animals but every once in a while, one can grow into another tree._

_You mean children?_

Charles hesitated before answering. _Yes._

\-----

Erik picked the biggest, healthiest acorn he could find. He knocked it to the ground gently. Blowing as hard as he could, he covered it securely in soil. He had to travel a ways, but he found a small storm. He borrowed some moisture and carried it back home. He poured it over the area.

Charles went dormant as it got cold. He never responded unless it was extremely important, so Erik waited. As he did, he did his best to fight off the cold weather and carry the warmest rain he could to Charles and the little mound where the acorn had been. It was after Charles woke again, small buds adorning his branches that the little seedling broke through the ground. Erik gave it water and kept interested animals off as best he could, watching the seedling grow. It wouldn’t know enough to speak for a while, but its tiny leaves wiggled happily when Erik twisted through them gently.

Charles was brighter and greener that year with happiness. _Darwin will be his name,_ he decided. _I heard it once when I was a sapling._

_Darwin,_ Erik said happily.

\-----

Darwin grew up wide and healthy, like the many saplings Erik and Charles had raised over the years. Darwin, Hank, and Raven could communicate, but Sean, Alex, and Angel could still only move their leaves. They were also joined by a gnarled willow whose seed had blown in with a storm. Logan had grown up twisted, no matter how Erik tried to help him. He liked to pretend that he was solitary and as rough as his twisted bark, but Erik had seen his long leaves tickle a human child who had wandered beneath him, making her giggle.

Charles practically glowed, radiating contentment. Erik had to admit, he swelled when he looked over their children as well. And they were **their** children. Erik and Charles had lovingly cultivated them, giving them the best life they could. Erik felt pride when he looked over at his family.

_Our children_ , he murmured one night as he caressed Charles’ leaves lazily. _Ours_.

_Ours,_ Charles agreed.

Life was perfect.

\-----

The storm came as a surprise, blowing across the lawn in what seemed like mere moments. Even if Erik had seen it coming, he wouldn’t have been able to fight it off or redirect it. It was much too large for him to handle. He could barely manage to flit back and forth between the children, reassuring them gently as they shivered in fear. The sky opened up, pouring harsh, pounding rain on them. Lightning light up the sky in an eerie imitation of the midday sun.

Erik was soothing Angel’s leaves when he heard the chilling crack.

_Charles!_

The wind had grown too strong for Erik to safely leave Angel’s branches, so he simply clung to her tightly. He rode out the storm, expanding and shrinking fearfully. Once the sun rose, the wind stopped. Everything was quiet after the roaring of the storm. Erik soothed Angel one more time before slowly extracting himself from her trunk.

_Charles?_

There was no answer, and Erik sped up with fright. He shrank when he saw Charles.

Charles was bent in half, trunk halfway torn in two. Darwin, their oldest, had caught him. His leaves were drooping and gray, and Erik had never hated the color more. Sap oozed from the break in Charles’ trunk. Erik quickly blew on it, trying to make it harden and seal.

_Charles, please. Please don’t do this. Don’t be…_

_Erik,_ came the tired reply. Erik hurried to Charles’ leaves, brushing them back carefully.

_Charles, love, are you alright?_

It took a moment for Charles to answer. _It hurts, Erik._

_I know, Charles_. Erik flared in distress. _Just hang on. Darwin’s got you, and the sap will seal soon._

_Don’t leave me_ , Charles begged, voice small. _I know I’m even less perfect now, but I still want to be your Charles._

_Charles, I would never leave you or our children,_ Erik assured him. _Never. Now rest._

Charles’ leaves fluttered before he settled, focusing on saving his energy.

It was nerve-wracking, touch-and-go for a while, but Charles pulled through. His trunk healed, sealing itself up. He was crooked now, and had to lean heavily against Darwin, but he was alive. Darwin didn’t mind supporting him; he was wide enough for them both. Some of Charles’ leaves fell out, but Erik assured him that he was still beautiful.

_I love you_ , he made sure to tell Charles every day.

_I love you too_ , Charles would always reply, leaves flaring open happily. Erik felt warmth and love surrounding their family, and knew that this was all he needed to accomplish in his life.

\-----

A while after the storm, Erik heard voices approaching over the hill. They were full grown voices, and Erik found himself curious. He pulled away from Charles’ trunk, where Charles was napping in the warm sunlight, and made his way up the hill.

Two humans were there, coming towards Charles. They were far older than any of the human children who sometimes visited. One stood straight and tall and exuded power. The other was sitting, carried by the first man. He felt of calm and peace. Erik heard them talking. He didn’t bother to try and listen to everything, as the sun made him lazy and sluggish, but he did manage to pick out ‘Erik’ and ‘Charles’ spoken in a familiar way, with even more love that when Erik had first heard them. His tendrils coiled happily, and he returned to his Charles.

\-----

“One of the children told me they saw it while they were playing,” Charles said, resting his hand on the trunk of the tree. “I can’t believe it’s still alive. I remember playing underneath its leaves as a boy.”

Erik stepped beside him, hands in his pocket as he watched Charles. “It is lucky. That was a terrible storm.”

“Will it have to be cut down?” Charles asked sadly. Erik shook his head.

“No. It might be injured, but look,” he pointed to the other trees around it. “It’s made itself a family. It has all the support it needs.”

Charles smiled softly. “Are we still talking about the tree?” he asked, shyly picking at the blanket covering his legs. Even after all these years, Erik could still bring out his bashful side at times. Erik knelt in front of Charles, taking his hand and pressing a kiss to it.

“Who knows? Perhaps the storm will come back for it too,” he said, glint of mischief in his eyes. Charles threaded their fingers together.

“That might be just what it needs to go on,” he teased.

A slight breeze ruffled Erik’s gray hair and played with the lapels on Charles’ coat. It rustled the tree’s leaves, sounding like bright laughter as Erik leaned forward to kiss Charles softly.

 


End file.
